therapist #5 suggested that i try EMDR, and then come back to her. after discussing it with my psychiatrist, it was decided that it was a good idea. so off i went to therapist #6, otherwise known as The Disaster. she destroyed what was left of my morale. within a few sessions, i basically learned that everyone who had ever tried to help me before her was a terrible person, and i should never have listened to my parents about how to deal with my problems. i saw her for a few months, despite hating her guts. one session that comes to mind...i was freaking out in her office. shaking and crying. i had a really bad cold. now usually, when i'm crying, i can breathe somewhat. this time, my nose was stuffed, and i couldn't. she chose that day to try teaching me proper breathing techniques..."in through your nose, out through your mouth." yeah. like any air could go "in through my nose" no amount of "i can't"s helped. i got more tense. she told me to breathe. i cried. she told me to breathe. oops, session time over. bye, little sheep! who cares if you're crying? go out into the street... when i went away for a short vacation after a few months with her, i just never made an appointment when i came back. she just wasn't worth it.
since EMDR wasn't at all successful, (i don't know if we even got to do actual EMDR in all the time i was with her) i couldn't go back to therapist #5, so my psychiatrist decided it was time for something new. maybe some group therapy would help. she put us in touch with therapist #7, who didn't have a group for me, but we decided to try her out, in the hopes that maybe she would eventually have one. the thing i remember most about her is her cats. she had two cats who had free roam of her apartment/office. a joy. they liked me. i didn't like them.
when i started really not liking her anymore, and wasn't getting better anyway, only worse, i refused to go back. i told my parents that if they wanted me in therapy, it was therapist #5 or no one. surprisingly, she accepted me back. i saw her for a while, and then we came to a standstill. i wasn't getting anywhere. we decided together that it was time for me to move on. i stopped therapy, and didn't go back in for a while.
(the time span from the beginning of my therapy saga, (therapist #1, school guidance counselor) to what i'm about to say was about eleven years)
around a year ago, i started falling backwards again. getting more suicidal. more SI. more depressed. i made an appointment with my psychiatrist, who gave me new meds (yay! since this post wasn't about meds, i didn't go through all of them, but...yeah.) and the name of therapist #8. therapist #8 was nice. i hit it off with her pretty quickly. worked myself ragged. started writing more, and sharing it in therapy. i worked with her until i started dealing with the stupid study. (was going to link to that, but then i realized there are too many posts about it to choose)
after being rejected from the actual study, i started with therapist #9. i'm not going into details about her, it's way too fresh. but she wasn't bad. (pretty high praise from me...) and now...it's over. i'm going back in a week and a half, and then i'm off two new things...who knows???